


Dancing

by Vermilion_Blues



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: (and to find out what’s wrong but he mainly wants to dance), Angst, Dancing, Fear of Relationships, M/M, but literally like 1 line at the end, first person POV, fluff with a sad end, i guess?? tord is kinda a whole mess, i have a very different writing style than a lot of other people, i haven’t tagged in so long how do u do this, like it’s super cute, oh yeah there’s a mention of sex, tom is just worried for his boyf, tom just wants to dance :(, tord is dramatic as all hell, until halfway through where the angst train blows its horn, why isn’t fluff with a sad end a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vermilion_Blues/pseuds/Vermilion_Blues
Summary: We used to dance. We didn’t always play music, but it was always the same. You would grab my hand, bow, and ask me something stupid like, “May I have this dance, my love?” I would snort, covering my face with my hand but I would say yes.I always said yes.or; an indirect letter to the man I once loved.





	Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> the summary isn’t an excerpt by the way!! it’s actually from my memory dump!! it’s what inspired this fanfic though, so i figured it was good to put it there.
> 
> uuuh this is angsty, but in a lowkey way. 
> 
> also the tense is kinda weird? bc i wrote it in a way that’s like: person is recalling memories. so some things are in past tense and somethings are in present tense

We used to dance.

It was long ago, when we were in the middle of a war, when you had finally slipped away from all the meetings and paperwork you were forced to do. You would find me, and you would grab my hand, oh so lightly.

You would pull me into your office, the lights dim and soft classical music playing. We would dance, freely and passionately.

I still remember the first time it happened. You held out your hand, in a dramatic bow with a flourish, and said, “May I please have this dance, my love?” It made me laugh then, and it makes me laugh now.

After the first time, us dancing quickly became routine. You would bow, say something stupid and dramatic, I would snort and cover my mouth, and then would say yes. I would _always_ say yes to you.

Whenever I said yes, your eyes would light up with the same passion and desire that I fell in love with all of those years ago. It was almost as if you always expected me to say no, and that you always expected me to turn away, to leave. But I didn’t, and I never would.

There would be laughter in your grin, a warm mirth that forced me to smile back as we fell into our familiar roles, you leading me with a steady hand on my back, and me following you at every turn. I would always follow you.

Sometimes there was no music. Sometimes the music was bursting, threatening to blow out the speakers. Sometimes the music poured from the speakers, filling the room and threatening to drown us. I didn’t care. We still danced.

Sometimes you just held me. We would stand, music curling around us, and you would hold me. I would feel your tears soaking into my shirt, your hands tightening on my back, and I would sway slightly, trying to telling you, “It’s ok. I’m here. You’re not alone. We’re here.” I don’t know if it got through to you, but sometimes you would smile, and that was enough for me.

I actually still remember the first time someone walked in on us dancing. You had me in a steep dip, my head almost to the floor when the door opened. I felt your grip loosen for a moment, and I was almost afraid you were going to drop me, but your hands tightened again, and you pulled me up to stand beside you, ever professional.

Paul, who had walked in holding a file, hadn’t said a word, but there was warmth, and amusement in his eyes. I remember blushing, being almost embarrassed to be there with you, but he just looked at me and nodded, and proceeded to talk about whatever it was that he came in to talk about.

There was no mocking. No displeasure. No anger. Nothing but happiness in everyone who has known’s gaze.

But you were more careful after that.

It wasn’t that you wished to hide us, or even me, away. That’s what you told me constantly, at least. But the dancing slowed down in frequency, until I was shocked whenever you asked, and you became more and more buried into your work, forgetting about my warm bed and choosing to sleep in your desk, away from me. I can’t remember exactly when it became “my bed” instead of ours.

It felt like a repeat of the past, a repeat of our game of push and pull, of give and take, of love and hate. I felt as if we were going to end up exploding once more, ending in another firework of robots and harpoons and tears, except this time you already had your scars, and I wasn’t going to be the one holding the weapon.

I missed you. I miss you.

We stopped dancing for months.

  
When we finally danced again, it was different to all the other times we had danced together. Instead of a grand flourish, you just grabbed my hand and pulled me in close. You held me, and you spun me, and you did all you could to bring back what we used to do, but there was no passion. No laughter. No warmth in your movements. You danced like there was a battle in your head that you didn’t know you could win. You pulled me up and you kissed me like you wanted to forget.

That night you laid in my bed, eyes closed and breathing even. I sat next to you, feeling warm from the afterglow, but it was wrong. I felt you pulling away from me, trying to push me and others away. Something was wrong. _You_ were wrong.

I watched your sleeping face as you rolled away from me.

**Author's Note:**

> i always have trouble with making my work long :(  
> idk i guess i’m just a short writer? the rough draft for this was like. 400 something words oof
> 
> i may make more of these “memories” oneshots!! i already have an idea, but idk if i’ll ever get around to writing it lol
> 
> if i do i’ll probably turn this into a series that i’ll call either “memories of a past life” or “letters to the man i once loved”


End file.
